Loosely Entwined, Forever Joined
by jordanOMC
Summary: James Norrington's destiny was never meant to be joined with Elizabeth Swann, but instead with a woman that wears a silver sparrow around her neck. When fate brought them together, it became impossible to keep them apart. James/OC DMC through AWE
1. Chapter 1: Boarderline Obsession

Not far off the coast of Port Royal the _Chasing Freedom_'s white sails billowed in the wind as its captain starred off at the island of Jamaica. It had been nearly three months since she heard that fateful conversation in Tortuga - the day she learned Jack Sparrow had escaped from Port Royal.

Sitting two tables away in a Faithful Bride Tavern, Alex had heard several men strike up a conversation that drew her attention away from the bottle of rum in her hands. She narrowed her eyes as she eavesdropped on their conversation.

"Did you hear that Jack Sparrow almost met the hangman's noose?" a short stout man asked his companion across the table.

The sound of Jack's name nearly made Alex choke on a mouthful of rum - or at least correct the man by informing him it was _Captain_ Jack Sparrow.

"Where did you hear this?" a taller, leaner man asked.

The one who had so clearly disrespected Captain Sparrow continued, "Aye, heard it from a merchant captain just the other day. Witnessed it himself right there in Port Royal, he did."

"Port Royal, you say?" the second man asked "Man has a lot of guts to try anything there, what with their young Commodore and all. The 'scourge of piracy' they call that Commodore Norrington, they do."

Alex was certain that not even Jack was stupid enough to return to Port Royal; at least she hoped he wasn't that foolish. She suddenly felt the urge to feel close to Jack - she needed to feel close to her brother.

Alexandra, though many just called her Alex, was the younger sister of Captain Jack Sparrow, and even though it had been over a year since she last saw him in Tortuga, she still cared about him even to this day. Where Jack was mostly known for his odd nature and often crazy schemes, Alex, however, was far more straightforward and was known for being more of a fighter rather than relying on tricks like her brother.

Since the news of Jack's recent run in with the Royal Navy, Alex had been in a somewhat foul mood toward everyone instead of being the easily agreeable captain her crew loved.

These days most of the crew refused to be anywhere near her for fear that they would be the next victims of her horrid temper. The only crew member that seemed brave enough, or had little desire for self preservation, was her first mate, Aaron, and even then he preferred to tread lightly around Captain Alex Sparrow.

Aaron Davis was Alex's first mate and closest confidant. Their bond stretched back to the day Alex stowed aboard a ship bound from the England to the Caribbean nearly nine years ago. After discovering Alex on board, he chose not to turn her into the captain but instead protected the then sixteen-year-old Alexandra and it was then she felt a close connection with him. Over the years they stuck together working aboard different ships until Alex won a ship from a pirate in a drunken game of cards in Tortuga.

"Captain," Aaron called from behind her, his voice shaky and full of anxiety. Alex closed her eyes and let out a groan of frustration. "A ship's been spotted coming up on the starboard side."

"Is it anyone I should be concerned about?" she asked, not looking back at Aaron.

"Actually," he began, taking a deep breath, "it _is_ a bit of a concern, Captain."

Finally looking back at Aaron she could tell that whoever it was, was a huge problem by the look on his face. Aaron's usually calm expression was anything but that as she followed him across the deck.

Looking through her spyglass she quickly recognized the flags flying, they were those of the East India Trading Company, a terrifying sight for any pirate, especially a pirate with her surname.

"Damn," she muttered under her breath.

Alex instantly knew it was a foolish and selfish mistake to come to Port Royal, she'd condemned her crew to a horrible fate since those aboard the company ship had probably noticed her and they would quickly be in range of the guns.

"Alex," Aaron began, grabbing hold of Alex's shoulders and turned her to face him, "I know about your family's history with the company an' I want you off this ship. I couldn' forgive myself if somethin' happened to you."

"I'm going to accept the same fate as my crew."

"Please, I'm beggin' you."

"Aaron, this is not up for debate! I'm staying-"

"No!" he yelled, several members of the crew turned their attention to them. "Your fate will be worse than the crew's! The Company will not be lenient when they find out you're a Sparrow."

Alex reached for the silver sparrow that hung from her neck and knew that Aaron was right, with her family's history with the East India Trading Company and Cutler Beckett's strong dislike for the Sparrows and pirates in general, there would be a grim fate awaiting her. Beckett had probably never gotten over how Jack had released a ship full of slaves on the island of Kerma which resulted in one of her brothers many arrests by the Company and the sinking of the _Wicked Wench_.

Letting out a heavy sigh, Alex couldn't help but agree. "You're right, Beckett would see that my punishment be drawn out. But how am I supposed to get away? It's not like they wouldn't notice a long boat making its way toward land."

Before long Aaron had the crew throwing barrels overboard as futile hope sparked among the crew that they would be spared from the gallows if Alex was not on board. Aaron and Alex exchanged a silent moment where they both realized that was not going to be the case.

Before Alex climbed down the ladder on the side of the ship, Aaron pulled Alex into a tight embrace. "Good luck, Alex," he whispered into her long, brown curls. "Promise me you'll get as far away as possible as soon as you can."

"Thank you, Aaron." Tears threatened to fall as she wrapped her arms tightly around Aaron's waist. "Once again you are risking your life for mine."

"I'll always defend you."

With that Alex descended down the side of her ship and jumped into the water, ducking around the debris thrown over the side of the _Chasing Freedom_ to keep out of view. She felt guilty about leaving her crew behind but she knew they had a better chance if they didn't have a Sparrow on board.

Alex struggled to keep her head above water as she struggled against the current and the swelling waves and prayed that she didn't swallow too much salt water. The beating she was receiving was bound to leave her entire body bruised, sore and stiff in the morning.

It felt like a lifetime before she finally reached the shore and Alex stumbled out of the water and collapsed from exhaustion on the sandy shores of Port Royal. Somewhere in the distance, she could hear gunfire as she watched the East India Trading Company take control of her ship. She could only helplessly watch as tears ran freely down Alex's face as she contemplated the fate of her crew.

…

"_Well," he began with a hint of a smile, "I think we can afford to give him one day's head start."_

Commodore James Norrington couldn't stop hearing those words repeating in his head as his crew and the _Dauntless_ sailed just off the coast of Tripoli, the _Black Pearl_ appearing larger on the horizon with each passing day.

Yes, it was only a matter of time before the _Black Pearl_ was under the control of the Royal Navy and Jack Sparrow and his crew locked in the brig below his feet. However, this pirate hunt was taking much longer than anyone had expected, and James was probably the most surprised when he realized they had been chasing Sparrow for over three months. He should have been back in Port Royal weeks ago dealing with that mess rather than pouring over the maps and logs of this region, a constant reminder that the supplies in the cargo hold were running low while he was alone in his cabin, locked away from the rest of the crew.

It should not have been this hard to catch Sparrow. After all, he was by far one of the worst pirates he had ever heard of, although Lieutenant Theodore Groves would gladly argue that point, even taking into consideration that the day he met Sparrow, he had a pistol with one shot and a compass that didn't point north.

_But he was able to commandeer the Interceptor right out from under your nose_, he had to remind himself. _And of course he proceeded to sink it as well._

James let out a heavy sigh as he recalled every incident that was caused by Sparrow, as well as all the paperwork that had to be filed for each said incident. There was probably a mound of work to be done on his desk back in Port Royal.

It was the second time that Jack Sparrow escaped from Port Royal that hit James the hardest because not only did Sparrow escape the hangman's noose, but it was also that this infuriating man had shattered his personal life as well.

James prided himself in being a very private man, the type of man that rarely allowed his personal life to interfere with his professional life. He had proposed to Elizabeth Swann, a woman that he watched grow into a fine woman before his very eyes, the day he was promoted to Commodore only to take back her promise in front of his men - men that looked to him for strength. Men that everyday entrusted their lives in him and the decisions he made.

And, of course, she left him for a blacksmith. No, Turner was the _apprentice_ to a blacksmith.

A flash of lightning lit up Norrington's cabin like daylight, and the crack of thunder made James flinch. The sudden realization of the storm raging outside of his cabin and the violent rocking of the ship broke James from his thoughts, and he glanced up at a small mirror to gaze at himself.

Dark circles had developed under the Commodore's intense green eyes betraying the fact James had hardly been sleeping, and even when he tried, sleep did not come easy. His long brown hair crumpled after hours of running his hand through it in frustration. However, that was easy enough to hide under his powdered wig and tricorn hat. James barely recognized his reflection as the well kept military man that he was, and his crew knew he was, or at least was capable of being.

He straightened himself up so that he looked at least somewhat presentable, James headed out of his cabin to get a better idea of what was barreling down on his ship and to find out how close they were to the _Black Pearl_.

"I think he's gone completely mad," a sailor hissed under his breath to another as James passed making his way to the helm, his hands clasped tightly behind his back. "Completely mental he is."

James froze, backed up, and turned his attention to the young sailor. "What was that, sailor? Questioning your superior officer, are we?"

The poor bloke suddenly regretted saying anything about the Commodore as his fellow crewmen watched as all color drained from the young man's face. However there must have been someone looking out for the young sailor as another loud clap of thunder rumbled overhead causing James to notice Gillette running toward him.

"Commodore!" Lieutenant Gillette yelled running up the stairs, the young Lieutenant's face full of anxiety. "Might it be wise to head for land and cut off the pursuit? At least until the storm subsides a bit?"

Soaking wet from the downpour and staring off toward land, James hesitated for a second, his mind and his heart telling him to listen to his years of experience in the Royal Navy and head for land, but his pride demanded they continue after Sparrow. Anyway, if the storm became too much, they could always head for land but the wind and the rain was not nearly enough to justify shoving all the crew's hard work aside or shoving all of _his_ hard work aside.

All eyes were now on the Commodore, even the poor sailor who was praying James had forgotten what he had said, hoping that he would order them to break off pursuit. Nobody dared to breathe in fear that it might negatively influence the Commodore's decision.

"We will continue our pursuit," Norrington ordered, his crew now in disbelief. "No doubt Sparrow will sail through this storm."

As the waves continued crashing against the ship, most of the crew had reached a consensus: Commodore Norrington was completely obsessed with catching Sparrow…no matter the cost, and that cost would prove to be far more than Norrington could afford. Throughout the night the waves washed over the quarterdeck, and at one point, James heard someone on deck yell the last thing he ever wanted to hear on his ship, "Man overboard!"

It wouldn't be the last time he heard those fateful words.

As the night progressed the storm raged on and everyone on board the _Dauntless_ did everything in their power to keep the ship intact as it capsized and broke apart amidst the fury of the swelling ocean. It was every man for himself as they struggled to protect their own lives. Everything became less clear for James, and eventually, the darkness of the night overcame him.

It was not until dawn broke the following morning did Commodore James Norrington realize the _Dauntless_ was gone when he woke up lying alone on a rocky beach, his head throbbing as he traced a jagged cut along his hairline. Many details from the previous night had sunk with the _Dauntless_, along with any chance that James Norrington's life would ever be the same_. _

**AN: This is my first attempt at writing a story for Pirates of the Caribbean so please bear with me as I maneuver through this. Luckily I have the fantastic Amani Ishikawa as my beta who has been so wonderful for listening to my ideas and providing a tremendous amount of insight into this whole process.**

**Sadly I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean and do not pretend to do so. I also don't own the rights to the gorgeous James Norrington/Jack Davenport. However, I do have some right to Alex because she is a creation of my own imagination.**

**Please leave your thoughts and feelings for this first chapter and believe me when I say things will only get more interesting from here.**


	2. Chapter 2: False Identities

It had been nearly a full day since the _Dauntless_ was claimed by the ocean, which was a result of Norrington's own stubborn pride. There was no sign of any of his crew members, and for hours James paced the beach on which he had washed up hoping for any sign of life that some of them survived. All that he found were pieces of painted wood and what appeared to be the door to his cabin.

When the realization hit James that he was probably one of the only survivors of the hurricane, he felt an enormous wave of guilt wash over him.

_I had condemned all of those men to death,_ he inwardly cried as he sat along the beach and stared off towards the ocean, knowing that his men died out there._ I sacrificed them for one pirate that I allowed to get the better of me._

James knew what was now required of him, not just as a Commodore of the Royal Navy, but as a human being. He had to admit defeat; he owed that to his late crew and also to the man that believed in him enough to name him Commodore.

Wandering along the beach for what seemed to be hours, also still sore from being jostled by the ocean, James came to a small town, which happened to have several ships docked in the harbor. A small harbor meant there was bound to be a postmaster's office.

Before the _Dauntless_ had sank, James knew that he was somewhere near Tripoli, where exactly he was now was a complete mystery since he was unsure how far he had been carried before finally washing ashore.

This town was not nearly as large as James was used to in Port Royal, the buildings were not nearly as nice as back home. Some of the poorer areas of this town, especially on the edge of town, the home had thatched roofs.

While looking for a postmaster's office James was amazed by the different languages he heard, though having no knowledge of what was being said. However, as he passed through what appeared to be the main marketplace he noticed that people were stopping and watching him pass by. He knew he stood out quite a bit from the locals, but his attire was also something to turn heads.

James noted his appearance as he passed by a storefront and saw his reflection in the window, his blue coat stained and stiff from the salt of the ocean and small rips in his waistcoat along with his shirt. The tight curls of his powdered wig seemed much looser and the ribbon in his hair frayed at the ends.

There was no way he would be able to pass inspection with his uniform in its current state, then again he wouldn't need to worry about that for much longer.

Letting out a heavy sigh, James finally found the small postmaster's office and entered it. The office itself was tiny and poorly lit; the only real source of light was the large window in the front of the office. A long counter ran along the width of the room, and small cubby boxes for the post hung against the wall.

A short, older gentleman walked out from a back room dressed in fine clothing, and James discerned that this man was clearly well off in this town. The addition of the postmaster made James feel that the room was far too small for more than two people to move around easily.

"Can I help you, sir?" the postmaster asked, carefully eyeing James. It wasn't every day that he had a man walk in his office wearing the uniform of an officer of the British Royal Navy.

"I need to send a letter to Port Royal," James said pressing his lips together, his hands clasped firmly behind his back. "I will be requiring paper and a quill as well, if you don't mind."

The postmaster began rummaging through several drawers under the counter; it took several attempts to find what James had requested. "It will take some time to have it delivered, sir."

"I understand, I'm just concerned that it makes it there."

"Of course." The postmaster set several sheets of paper down in front of James along with a quill, which James accepted with an appreciative bow of his head.

James tried to steady his shaking hands as he attempted to write out his letter of resignation to Governor Swann, he couldn't figure out whether his hands were trembling from what he had to write or whether he was still in shock. It didn't really matter now; it wasn't going to get any better anytime soon, for he was giving up the life that he knew.

James explained in his letter what had happened with the hurricane and how he felt undeserving of the title of Commodore, and after rereading his words several times, he was at least satisfied with his explanation.

He sealed the letter and handed it to the postmaster. "I'll also need this sent along with it," James added, removing his sword, which had miraculously managed to stay with him throughout the hurricane. "I'll no longer be in need of it."

The postmaster could tell see how hard it was for James to hand over his sword, his lips turned downward in a deep frown as he ran his fingers along the gold filigree in the handle."It's a beautiful sword," the older gentleman complimented, his eyes glistening excitedly as he accepted the sword. "How can you part with something so beautiful?"

Taking a deep breath, James had to force all his emotions deep down, he couldn't afford his feelings to get the best of him. "You can let it go if you find yourself unworthy to be touched by its beauty."

A deafening silence fell over the tiny postmaster's office and without another word James turned and walked out of the office, the fresh air was refreshing compared to the staleness of the postmaster's office.

With his life as a member of the Royal Navy behind him, James began wandering around town, it was no surprise that he found his way down to the harbor; the sea beckoned James to it like they were connected.

"Might as well try to make myself useful," he muttered quietly to himself, shaking his head, realizing he would still need to find a way to support himself financially, as well as pass the rest of his life.

So stumbling from ship to ship, not that there were all that many docked in this small town, speaking to captains hoping someone would be in need of his services.

However, soon news of the _Dauntless's_ sinking would be known by everyone, and James would be the one they all blamed. He would have the blood of those who were claimed by the sea on his hands, and not to mention it made the third time Sparrow slipped through his fingers. James was sure to be a wanted man with a heavy price on his head.

"Do you have a name?" one captain asked, noting James's uniform carefully.

"Smith," he lied quickly, knowing better than to use his real name. "James Smith."

"Welcome aboard the _Lisburne Trader_, Mister Smith." The captain hoped he hadn't made a foolish mistake that would lead to problems with the Royal Navy; after all he already had his hands full of tax issues with the East India Trading Company.

Grateful for the job, James gave a quick smile and bow of the head before making his way up the gangplank with the rest of the crew, anxious to start busying himself with work. If he could keep busy maybe it would occupy his mind just enough.

But later that night, James again found himself bolting up from a dead sleep like he had the night before, grasping his chest and panting in an effort to inhale as much air into his lungs. His chest felt like a tight knot had formed and continued tightening around every muscle in his body ached.

"Shut it!" a voice yelled from somewhere in the darkness, clearly annoyed at James's nightmare.

Running a hand through his tangled, sweat drenched hair James quietly muttered an apology under his breath, knowing that whoever yelled wouldn't hear it or even care if he said anything or not. Luckily, James was also on the bottom hammock so he swung his legs over the edge, burying his face in his hands.

"You look like you could use some." Confused, James looked up and saw a young man he had seen earlier on deck standing in front of him, a bottle of a dirty brown liquid in hand, clearly offering it contents to James.

"I beg your pardon?" James asked, taken aback by this stranger's random act of kindness.

"You look like you could use a drink of rum, especially after all that moaning and groaning."

"Rum?" James questioned him, lifting an eyebrow.

Thrusting the bottle into James's hands, the young man gave him a quick nod. "It'll help, trust me," he assured James before taking a seat on the hammock besides James's.

James hesitated for a second; he had always considered rum to be a vile drink, the drink of choice among pirates. When he pressed the bottle to his lips and allowed the liquid to run down his throat, James couldn't help but cringe at how it burned as it went down.

After the initial burn of the rum subsided, James was surprised how much it seemed to help. Some of the jagged edges of his heart softened, the intense guilt of what he had done to his crew, and many friends, didn't seem as strong.

_Perhaps if I can't forget the memories,_ James thought to himself._ I'll be able to make them disappear for a while._

"Helps, don't it?" the man asked curiously, a small smile tugging at the corner of him lips.

Taking another long drink from the bottle, James let out a heavy sigh. "So it would seem."

…

The waves crashed along the beach, and Alex barely had moved from where she had washed up on the shore of Port Royal yesterday. Her eyes fixed on the horizon as the sun slowly crept up over the ocean, the sky painted in different shades of orange and red.

She spent so much time yesterday watching the East India Trading Company take control of her ship, her mind conjuring up images of what might be happening on board, each shot fired in the distance caused her to jump a little.

But now there was little she could do. Alex knew she couldn't just walk up to Fort Charles and break her crew out of the jail; she wasn't even sure how much of her crew was still alive. Also, she couldn't stop thinking about Aaron and the promise she'd made.

He had wanted to make sure she survived, that she would continue on.

If she tried anything she would have thrown everything that he had done and risked to the wind. Alex also realized that if she stayed on this beach any longer someone would come across her, leading to speculation as to why a woman was washed up on the beach following the capture of a notorious pirate ship.

Slowly, Alex got up off of the ground, brushing the sand off of her breeches she glanced around to get a better feeling for her surroundings. There was a small stone pathway that led up to town, Alex threw her sword and her captain's hat bitterly into the brush that was starting to overtake the path leaving herself armed with a small knife safely tucked into a deep pocket of her coat.

The narrow dirt streets of Port Royal were quickly filling with merchants maneuvering their carts around people and the small wooden stands selling fruit and other miscellaneous goods. Shop keepers were busy opening their stores for business by shaking out dusty floor mats and unlatching the woo0den shutters that protected their windows from thieves.

There was a low, rumbling in the pit of Alex's stomach, so as she passed by one of the street vendors she grabbed a piece of fruit from one of the counters, along with a small velvet pouch of coins that its owner was not keeping a closer eye on, a gutsy move considering at the same time a small group of about four members of the British Royal Navy made their way down the street, no doubted making their way to the fort. Their uniforms neat and wrinkle free, not a hair was out of place.

Alex was quickly scanning the signs on every building she passed, not one of them was what she was looking for. All of the inns she passed seemed far too nice for what she needed, and that was a place to hide.

There was no way she would want to risk being recognized by anyone, granted many of the people that would be able to identify her were in no physical condition to do so.

It wasn't until she was on the edge of town that Alex came upon a small inn that the unsuspecting traveler would have walked by without a second glance, the perfect place as far as Alex was concerned. All she needed was a place to lay low for a while before jumping ship for Tortuga.

"Excuse me," Alex called out as she walked in the empty inn, she could hear people shuffling around in other rooms, but she decided against going and looking for whoever was here. "Is anyone here?"

No one answered; instead there was a loud crash from an adjoining room. Alarmed, Alex decided to investigate.

There in a tiny, poorly lit kitchen an older woman was kneeling on the ground surrounded by broken dishes. Alex knelt down and began picking up broken pieces of China off the floor and placed them in a white linen towel on the counter.

"Are you alright?" Alex asked the older woman.

The older woman looked up at Alex through thick glasses, silver curls falling over her face. "Do you have a name, dear?" she asked, kindly.

"Yes." Alex shook her head. "Are you alright, though?"

"I'm fine, I'm fine," she laughed, throwing some pieces of china in a large bowl on a counter. "What can I do for you, dear?"

Getting up off the ground, Alex followed the woman's lead and discarded her own collection of china in the bowl. "I'm trying to find a place to stay until I can find passage out of Port Royal, though I don't have much with me."

"Well, I think we can help with your lodging. If I may be so bold, you do appear that you've seen a fair bit of action lately."

Alex squirmed under this woman's scrutiny. "That's true, my ship was attacked not far off the coast and next thing I knew I was lying up on the beach," the lie easily slipped off Alex's tongue. "Which would also mean I have very little as far as payment goes."

The older woman waved her hand carelessly in front of her. "That's fine, you can help me here. As you've seen I'm not as able bodied as I used to be."

"Thank you, ma'am."

Unlike her brother, Alex prided herself in her ability to easily slip in and out of society when needed. Jack would often tease Alex about how she should have been a fine woman in society rather than end up a pirate; sadly Alex had to agree with him.

"Don't call me ma'am, makes me feel old. Please call me Angie or Miss Thatcher, I respond to either one." Angie's big blue eyes shined brighter as she stared at Alex. "Now, what do you go by?"

Another lie easily fell out of Alex's mouth. "Alexandra," she began, "Alexandra Smith."

**A/N: **

**Thanks for everyone that has reviewed and given this story a chance! That goes double for my fantastic beta Amani Ishikawa, author of the story _Mirror, Mirror. _**

**Sorry this chapter has taken so long to get done and posted, hopefully I haven't lost anyone because of the wait. Clearly we both have James and Alex hiding from what they truly are, granted James seems to be taking the sinking of Dauntless incredibly hard and Alex isn't doing as bad, that's not going to be the case. She will be showing the effects of her losing her crew soon, and taking it out on two individuals soon enough. Please drop me a message.**


	3. Chapter 3: Downward Spiral

_Aaron looked out toward the crowd of execution goers as he was led toward the gallows. His boots thumped heavily up the steps, and he observed faces among the crowed. He was a pirate, the scourge of the seas, and in the eyes of lawful citizens, a rapist, a thief, and a murderer. Some regarded him with disgust, and others sneered. He had never felt so alone or afraid in his life, not even when the Royal Navy had commandeered the ship and slapped a set of shackles onto his wrists and ankles. The heavy chains scraped across the worn wood of the gallows as he walked. They felt so heavy, or perhaps it was the weight of his heart. __Aaron's eyes swept over the throng of people that had gathered for this event, and his eyes stopped upon a familiar face; it was Alex. His eyes connected with hers and a weak but encouraging smile crossed his face when he saw her standing among the crowd of on lookers in the back of the assembly. He paused briefly. His heart raced as he gazed at her, the woman whom he had cared for his entire life. He had only thought of her as he awaited his fate in the damp, dirty cell at Fort Charles. Her presence calmed his trepidation as he was jabbed by the bayonet of the guard's rifle and yanked quite roughly toward the noose as though he were an animal for slaughter. As they slipped it on over his head, all he could see was Alex, and a pang of remorse penetrated his heart. She would be alone now, and she would never know how he had felt about her all these years. He closed his eyes as the burlap sack was slipped over his head and the last prayer read. He had no last words to share, at least none he wanted to impart in public, for they would be only for Alex. He drew in a staggered breath as the courtyard fell eerily silent and the executioner placed a hand on the lever that would open the trap door at his feet and send him to his death._

_How people could enjoy witnessing a hanging, Alex could only wonder. It was taking everything she had to hold back. She went over many rescue scenarios in her mind, but all were futile and would condemn her to death right by Aaron's side. A part of her would not have minded that; they had been through everything together, and Alex sometimes imagined that she would fall in battle by his side. She would have never imagined that he would make the ultimate sacrifice for her - the sacrifice of his very own life that he loved so she could live. Perhaps if Jack had been here, they could stop this madness and rescue her friend, but Jack was oceans away. Alex and Aaron both knew she was neither brave nor foolish enough to attempt a heroic rescue inside a fort swarming with His Majesty's finest._

_The drums began to roll. The commanding officer raised his rapier, and after moments that seemed like an eternity, he let the blade fall. Alex held her breath as__ the hangman pulled the lever. Aaron plummeted through the hole that had opened beneath him with a short drop and a sudden stop. His body tensed sharply as the rope effectively snapped his neck. His feet twitched as his body hung and then he moved no more. He was lost forever. Tears trickled down Alex's face. She was utterly alone. Aaron had saved her life on several occasions but all she could do was just stand there and allow his to end._

_

* * *

_

Alex gasped and sat upright, breathing heavily as her heart raced. She could feel that she was drenched in a cold sweat. The nightmare of Aaron's execution had startled her so much that she nearly fell out of her hammock. The painful memory had been plaguing her dreams for nearly two weeks now. At first, she had felt numb. Then the realization that Aaron was truly gone hit Alex, and along with it the conglomeration of everything that had happened. Everything seemed like a horrible nightmare. Her crew was gone. Her ship was gone, and her life as she knew it was gone. Worst of all, Aaron was gone.

In the days following Aaron's hanging, Alex was sure that Miss Thatcher knew she would be leaving. Whether the inn keeper suspected Alex was a pirate was uncertain, but Alex had noticed that Angie began adding a shilling or two to Alex's wages and supplied her with a clean pair of breeches and a new shirt. Still, Alex was grateful to the old inn keeper, and it had pained her to leave the old woman behind.

Alex wiped her forehead with the back of her hand and hopped out of her hammock. Now that she was awake, she headed up to the main deck. The cool wind greeted her as she emerged from the dark, damp bowels of the ship. The kind weather and the gentle rocking of the ship against the relatively calm sea seemed to calm her nerves after those horrible thoughts.

Not many were up and roaming the deck of the _Edinburgh Trader_ this early in the morning. The pre-dawn sun was just threading over the horizon against a deep purple sky. Quietly, Alex made her way toward the bow and slipped behind the mast. She desperately shook out her long curls which she had been forced to keep either braided or hidden under a hat.

Ever since she slipped aboard the _Edinburgh Trader_ the day before, Alex had not been able to enjoy a quiet moment alone. Unfortunately, however, it was not meant to last. A pair of footsteps, too soft to belong to a man, stopped just behind her.

"I'm so sorry," she heard a female voice apologize. The woman behind Alex spoke in a hushed tone. "I didn't mean to- I promise I won't say anything-"

"Not a problem, lass," she assured her, briefly glancing over her shoulder. She grinned. "I'm sure you're dying to let your hair out of that wrapped braid too."

The other woman's brown eyes went wide with surprise. "H-how could you tell?"

Alex finished stuffing her long braid up under her hat before turning to face her companion, noting instantly that she was several years younger than herself. Short strands of blond hair stuck out from under her hat and judging by her creamy complexion, she had not spent much time outside, let alone aboard a ship.

Somehow Alex felt that she had seen this woman somewhere before. All she knew was the woman was from Port Royal, but she couldn't recall anything else that would give her identity.

"This isn't the first time I've stowed aboard a ship dressed as a man." Alex's voice was unfamiliar to her. She had been forced to lower her voice around the crew in order to pass off as a younger male member of the crew. "I guess that probably makes me an expert at seein' when someone else is."

"But none of the men on board could tell," her companion replied.

"There lays the problem. They're men. Many probably haven't spent much time in port lately. They'd notice more if you weren't dressed like a sailor, Miss-"

"Swann," the younger woman introduced herself, her hand extended for Alex. "Elizabeth Swann."

Her name was all it took. Alex knew immediately just then that this woman was the daughter of Weatherby Swann, Governor of Port Royal.

Alex eyed Elizabeth suspiciously for a moment. Elizabeth's position could earn an unwanted trip to the gallows. She hesitated, but she took the other woman's hand. She noticed as she closed her fingers around Elizabeth's hand that it was smooth and had never seen a day of work, the opposite of her own.

"Nice to meet you, Miss. Swann," Alex finally responded.

"Likewise, Miss-"

There was a brief moment of hesitation before saying her name. "…Sparrow. Alexandra Sparrow, though if you have any sense of self preservation you'll call me Alex and _not_ mention my surname, savvy?"

She didn't want anyone, especially the governor's daughter, to mention her name. It would be even worse knowing that Lord Cutler Beckett was now in Port Royal, for what exactly Alex wasn't sure.

Elizabeth gave a slight gasp at the mention of Alex's last name before opening and closing her mouth several times as she struggled to come up with an appropriate response.

"Did you say Sparrow?" she finally managed to ask, sounding somewhat hopeful. "Are you any relation to Jack Sparrow?"

"That's _Captain _Jack Sparrow, dear," she corrected. "Anyway, what's it to you?"

"I need to find Jack-"

Noticing that several crew members were making their way up on deck Alex tried to busy herself. "Well, that makes two of us." Alex let out a heavy sigh, once again feeling defeated. "Besides, you're on the wrong ship."

Elizabeth's brows furrowed with confusion, and she shot Alex a questioning glance. Then a skeptical expression crossed her features. "What do you mean by that?"

Letting go of the ropes she had been tying up, Alex whipped her head to face Elizabeth, scoffing at how oblivious this girl was being. "What I mean," she snapped, "is this ship is unfortunately not going to be stopping in Tortuga."

"Then why are _you_ on this ship?"

A young deckhand with dark curly hair walked past, looking carefully at Alex and Elizabeth.

"You ask a lot of questions." Alex took a step forward, lowering her voice to just above a whisper. "What is my story to you?"

Elizabeth's eyes grew sadder, the strong mask she was wearing slipped just enough. "I'm just trying to find Jack," she began, gently tugging on the hem of her waist coat. "My fiancé, Will, and I were arrested by Lord Cutler Beckett of the East India Trading Company for helping Jack escape Port Royal and now we need his help."

Alex instantly felt a pang of sympathy for Elizabeth Swann, she knew the destruction that _Lord_ Cutler Beckett could cause. In fact, she knew that level of destruction first hand. Alex was not ready to share her story but was willing to see that another life wasn't torn apart by Beckett and the East India Trading Company.

"What? Are you planning on getting us to Tortuga?"

* * *

By the time night fell on the Caribbean, Alex and Elizabeth were standing on the main top; Elizabeth's wedding dress attached to brooms like a marionette puppet to play on the crew's fears that it belonged to a widow's spirit.

They had already managed to get Captain Bellamy and several others out of the captain's cabin. Both Elizabeth and Alex knew that all they needed to do was to get the rest of the crew to come out on deck and their scheme would be a success.

"She wants you to do something," the ship's bursar spoke up, nervously glancing over at the captain.

Bellamy took several hesitant steps forward, bowing his head slightly at Elizabeth's wedding dress, hoping to show the supposed spirit respect. "She's trying to give a sign," Captain Bellamy informed his crew.

Elizabeth swung her dress across the deck, at one point making the captain and his crew duck out of the way. On one pass over their heads Elizabeth intentionally knocked over a lantern off a crate so it would land on the oil Alex had spread over the deck.

However, Captain Bellamy removed himself from the deck and pointed across the deck. "Over there," he yelled, leading everyone to the starboard side of the ship. "Look for a sign!"

Elizabeth and Alex exchanged eye rolls and heavy sighs. It appeared to the both of them this crew was not the most observant bunch. Silently, Alex slid down the rigging and landed fairly easily on the same crate the lantern had been sitting.

The tall, stout quartermaster pointed vaguely out towards the ocean, no one noticing Alex's descent. "Look, there!" The quartermaster said nervously. "There it is! There's the sign!"

Someone quickly shot his observation down, stating that it was only seaweed and couldn't possibly be a sign. Of course the quartermaster refused to be wrong.

"Seaweed can be a sign!" he argued. "It _does_ resemble entrails!"

The crew erupted into ridiculous bickering, and Alex was unable to stand any more of it.

"What's that there?" Alex asked forcing her voice lower than usual as she pointed to the burning message on the deck.

The crew looked over their shoulder finally noticing her.

"Is that the sign?"

As the crew approached the burning oil, Alex looked up at the crow's nest, and flashed Elizabeth a wicked grin and a brief nod. Their crazy plan had actually worked, and they were now bound for the island of Tortuga.

* * *

"Mister Smith!" a crew member yelled across the docks.

It wasn't the first time he had heard his assumed name called out. James had yet another splitting headache and the voice of whoever had just called his assumed name assaulted his aching brain like a blacksmith's hammer..

"Mister Smith," the man who had been yelling said, placing his hand on James's shoulder. "Mister Smith?"

"Es'cuse me?" Norrington asked, his word slurring together. "Who you lookin' for?"

Time had passed since the sinking of the _Dauntless_, though James wasn't very keen on keeping track of how long it had been. It was a memory he wanted to forget, but even the passage of time would not let him escape the horrors of that fateful night. Since then, James had changed; he was no longer the same man who once had an entire fleet at his command. His eyes had sunken further into his skull, and they had lost that ambitious shine. He now looked tired and aged beyond his years. A hard line was etched on both sides of his mouth. James had become rough, violent, and unapproachable, particularly if he had been drinking.

Unfortunately, that was all James ever did. Ever since his first job since resigning his commission, James had developed a severe drinking problem. His attempt at escape from the memory of his ill fated crew sent him into a downward spiral into dishonor and poverty. He was rarely seen without a bottle of rum or some other vile beverage in his hands, which had made holding down a steady job nearly impossible. James wasn't sure at this point exactly many crews from which he had been dismissed, and now it seemed he was about to be dismissed once more.

"You _are_ Mister Smith, correct?"

"Aye, what do you want?"

James's eyes glanced over the young man in front of him, quickly coming to the conclusion that he was not the captain. Assuming from how the man was dressed, he appeared to be nothing more than a deckhand sent to relieve an inebriated James from his duties.

The deckhand shouldn't have even been called a man. He seemed more like a young boy who was just sent to do someone else's bidding. There was a fear in the boy's bright blue eyes, a fear that made James remember the young sailor he had severely reprimanded before the _Dauntless_ sank.

"Well," the boy cleared his throat. "The captain wanted you to know that your services will no longer be needed aboard this ship."

"You intend to leave me here?" James looked around wondering where exactly 'here' was. "Care to explain where 'here' is exactly?"

"You're in Tortuga unfortunately, but given your drinking on board, this is just the place for you."

James balled his hands into a tight fist at his sides. He knew this boy was just following an order but to insinuate that he had a problem was insulting, although deep down, James knew he had fallen far from grace.

"A _pirate _port!" he spat, his lips curling into a disgusted snarl.

The other crew members had paused in their work and were now watching what was occurring on the docks, ready to intervene if things got too hostile.

"I'm sorry, sir," the boy's voice quivered. He took a few cautious steps back toward the gangplank. "I'm just following the captain's orders."

There was nothing James could possibly say, after all, the boy was following orders. He could not help the fact his captain was a complete coward. With a shrug of his shoulders, James turned and headed up the docks toward town, intentionally bumping into the crew members that had witnessed his humiliation.

Once in town James understood why this place was a haven for pirates and other lost souls; it was the perfect for a person to disappear. The entire town bred lawlessness and dishonor. Women were dressed as no respectable woman should be dressed, hiding in dark alleys and neglected buildings, hoping that a young sailor would be in need of pleasurable company for the night. The air was thick with the smell of rum, stale perfume and sweat.

Several months ago James never would have never allowed himself to be seen in a place like this, but he was no longer the honorable man was raised to be. He was becoming just like the men crouched in the streets, a bottle of rum held tightly in their hands and eyes hollow with despair. His father, God rest his soul, would have disowned him if he had known how far he had fallen.

James stumbled along the dusty, dirty streets until came across a busy tavern, or at least it seemed busy with all the commotion that could be heard from outside on the street.

_What's one more drink?_ James wondered to himself, as the rough edges around his heart started to ache again.

Once inside the Faithful Bride Tavern, one drink turned into several flagons. The numbness that his first drink of rum had brought him had become ever harder to reach; one mug full of rum would not even touch the pain he was feeling. The night made these feelings even worse because he was alone, and his dreams just repeated those memories over and over in his mind.

"Give me another," Norrington managed to mumble to the bartender as he finished off yet another drink.

This was the only escape he had left, an escape from the _Dauntless_, where he could still hear his men screaming for help, and an escape from Elizabeth Swann, who he could still hear her confessing her love for William Turner.

So focused was he on the drink in front of him, James hardly realized a woman took a seat next to him at the bar. "What're you lookin' for, hun?" she asked sweetly through her bright red lips, which made her skin appear paler.

James took another long drink, barely paying attention to her. "A way to forget," he muttered.

_I've lost my life,_ James thought but didn't dare say. _The woman I loved was taken by a blacksmith, I betrayed men who trusted me with their lives. All of this wouldn't have happened if it wasn't for Sparrow._

"I can help you forget, luv," the woman whispered in his ear.

The strong scent of her musty perfume nearly caused James to gag on his rum. With his eyes fixed on the wall in front of him, he simply told her, "No."

"Aw, come on," she purred, looping a loose strand of James's dark hair around her finger. "I've always had a thing for a man in uniform."

"I already said NO!" he shouted as he rose abruptly from his stool, sending it toppling to the floor.

With the _Faithful Bride_ having a reputation for having fights to break out just for sport, no one bothered to look up to find out what the commotion was, so no one even noticed James slip out the door with his bottle of rum secured tightly in his hand. The woman that had offered her services to the former Commodore easily moved on to the next man who appeared to be in need of her company.

Outside the _Faithful Bride_ several patrons had already moved their good times out onto the street, the whole town seemed to be one large tavern and brothel. Yet James didn't seem to care, he was interested in just one thing - solitude.

**A/N:**

**I'm sensing James has just about hit rock bottom and Alex is already on that downward spiral, especially now we know more about her first mate and why he was willing to protect her. Also, we finally got to see another character from the movies!**

**A big shout goes out to my beta, Amani Ishikawa, for really helping with this chapter, especially Alex's nightmare. You made it so much better than I could have ever expected it to be. I also have to thank my Colombian ninja, jackspergirl, for our countless discussions about this story. My official total should be only one after this chapter.**

**Next chapter paths will cross, debates will get rather heated, and a certain pirate finally makes his long awaited debut.**


	4. Chapter 4: Fates Become Entwined

Chapter 4: Fates Become Entwined

It had only been a couple of days since James was left in Tortuga, which was already hooking its claws deep into James's life. The wenches meant nothing to him, and most of the time he simply ignored their advances, causing them to sulk off to the next lonely sailor or pirate. Instead, it was the unlimited supply of alcohol that had James crawling back to the taverns every night as well as during the day.

James rarely allowed himself to become sober before he began drinking again. He often found himself waking up sore in pig sties, leaving him to wonder what had happened before he had passed out.

If anyone he knew passed James Norrington now, they would be astounded at how far the once proud Commodore had fallen; at this point he was at rock bottom with no sign of recovering.

Like any other night, James entered the Faithful Bride Tavern, one of the few establishments that had yet toss James out into the street for starting a fight with other patrons where he immediately noticed a line of men waiting in front of a table near the back of the tavern, most likely signing up to join a crew.

_None of these men would be fit to serve on my ship_, James thought harshly as he inspected the band of misfits. Looking past the men, however, he noticed a familiar face seated behind the table, a face that made James's hands ball into tight fists at his side.

Seated behind that table was none other than Joshamee Gibbs, former warrant officer of the British Royal Navy and current first mate of Jack Sparrow. James considered him as one of the men that led his life to fall apart at the seams and one that he'd chased across the seas. His being in this tavern could only mean one thing: Sparrow had to be somewhere near.

Still drunk from his last binge, his head aching and unable to think rationally, James slowly made his way over towards Gibbs. For the first time in months James' vibrant, green eyes burned with some sense of emotion, though this time his eyes burned at the prospect of redemption.

"And what's your story?" Gibbs asked as James stepped up to the table, barely looking at James.

"My story?" he asked flatly causing Gibbs to nod his head in agreement. "It is exactly the same as your story just one chapter behind. I chased a man across the seven seas. The pursuit cost me my crew, my commission, and my life."

Gibbs's eyes widened when James had explained what had happened, the commodore was the last person he'd ever expect to see in a place like this and signing up to join a pirate's crew no less. "Commodore?" Gibbs asked, his mouth hanging in disbelief at the sight of James.

"No, not anymore," James snapped, annoyed that Gibbs would still dare to address him by his former title. "Weren't you listening?" Norrington leaned slightly over the table, pointing his finger at Gibbs like it was this man's fault his life had fallen apart. "I nearly had you all off Tripoli. I would have, if not for the hurricane."

"Lord, you didn't try to sail through it?"

"So, do I make your crew or not?"

James followed Gibbs's gaze down to the ship's roster, a look of hesitation on Gibbs's face as he gestured for James to sign the roster led him to believe that anyone would be taken and not for their qualifications, especially after seeing some of the other men that had joined Sparrow's crew.

"You haven't said where you're going," Norrington pointed out causing Gibbs to pause. "Somewhere nice?"

Annoyed with the man in front of him, and even more annoyed that he had finally caught up with Sparrow and his crew, though only after his life had fallen into shambles, James flipped over the table sending Gibbs tumbling to the floor.

"So, am I worthy to serve under Captain Jack Sparrow?" James turned and asked the bar full of people, noticing someone moving away he pulled out his pistol, pointing it directly at Sparrow, who was attempting to make another quick escape but this time trying to hide behind a palm leaf. "Or should I just kill you now?"

Sparrow had not changed a bit; he still tried to hide when James had him cornered. James watched as Jack tried ducking behind wooden beams like a cat that had just finished tracking its prey. James tracked Sparrow's every move carefully with his pistol poised at the loathsome pirate. He did not take his eyes from him, for fear that Sparrow might disappear like a flame from a candle.

"You're hired." Sparrow flashed a wicked grin, bowing his head slightly causing a few of his dark dreads to fall over his face.

James pulled back the hammer of his pistol, his finger gently caressing the trigger, eager to do what he should have done the day he first time he met Sparrow. "Sorry," he began, matching Sparrow's smirk, "Old habits and all."

Just as he was about to pull the trigger, two of the sailors that had signed onto Sparrow's crew, charged James and tried to wrestle the pistol from his hands. "Easy sailor!" one of them yelled. "That be our cap'n you're threat'nin'."

As they continued to wrestle for control of the pistol, the weapon fired sending the shot to rebound off a chandelier and go through a bottle of rum, which caused the entire tavern to erupt into mass chaos. In the middle of the fight James realized Sparrow had disappeared and then turned his attention into fighting whoever wanted to cross his path.

"Come on, then!" James yelled, his back firmly against a wooden post, as he pointed a sword that he had acquired in Tortuga at the group of men surrounding him along with a bottle of rum in the other hand. "Who wants some? Form an orderly line and I'll have you all, one by one."

Most of the onlookers just laughed at his drunken challenge while others were eager to take him up on his offer just so they could have the honor of saying they had beaten a former naval officer.

"Come on, who's first?" he demanded, completely unaware that someone had slipped the bottle of rum from his hands.

No one had an opportunity to step forward before James was struck on the back of the head, sending a sharp, shooting pain through his already aching head. The pain sent James tumbling unceremoniously to the ground along with shards of glass from the now busted bottle of rum.

* * *

"So am I worthy to serve under Captain Jack Sparrow?" Alex heard a man yell. In the Faithful Bride Tavern, Alex to pushed her way through the crowd to see what the commotion was about, though she did so in a way so as not to attract attention to herself.

She peeked around a corner and saw a tall man dressed in what appeared to be a uniform of the British Royal Navy. It was a tattered one, but an officer's uniform none the less. Alex surmised that at one time, the uniform was bright blue and freshly pressed. Beneath the man's tricorn hat was what had probably been at one time a neatly kept powdered wig which was now dirty and disheveled much like the uniform.

Alex watched as the man bared his teeth and yanked out his flintlock pistol. He pointed it at her brother's face. "Or should I just kill you now?"

Alex shook her head as she watched her brother unsuccessfully try to duck around a wooden pillar. She put a palm to her forehead. _'Does he want people to shoot him?' _Alex thought quietly to herself, her left hand instinctively reaching for the pistol which was concealed beneath her overcoat.

It had cost Alex everything to find her brother after learning of his trip to the gallows, and she was not about to allow a drunken Naval officer to make her fail at what she had set out to do, especially since she was so close to succeeding.

"You're hired," Jack told the man with a smug grin. Alex loosened the grip on her pistol.

"Sorry," the man with the gun smirked at Jack and pulled back the hammer of his pistol. "Old habits and all that…"

Alex screwed her eyes shut and waited for a gunshot. A long moment passed, and a shot was never fired, so she opened her eyes to see two men charging the man holding the pistol, as they attempted to wrestle the gun from his hand.

"Easy, sailor!" one of the men shouted.

The other yelled, "That's our cap'n yer threatenin'!"

The pistol suddenly fired which caused the entire tavern to erupt into chaos, making the perfect cover for Jack to escape before the sailor could come back and finish what he intended. Alex hurried through the pub, her eyes darting about to look at every face. She placed a hand on the hilt of her sword until she spotted her brother sneaking up a flight of stairs.

Alex followed her brother at a distance behind him out of the Faithful Bride and down toward the docks; she knew her brother would be heading toward the one place he felt safe, and that was aboard his own ship.

* * *

A group of men grabbed hold of James's limbs and heaved him headfirst into a pig sty just outside the tavern. He landed face first into the mud as the onlookers gave a thunderous cheer.

"James Norrington," called out the sweetly familiar voice that he had longed to hear whisper his name caringly for years. For a moment, James was sure that he was dreaming, but he could hardly believe his eyes when he found himself staring into the unmistakable face of Elizabeth Swann. "What has the world done to you?" she asked as she helped him sit up in the mud.

"Nothing I didn't deserve…" he muttered. He could not bear to look her in the eyes, for he was ashamed she had to see him in this sorry state.

James was certain now she was grateful she chose Turner over him, a disgraced former Commodore, but she withheld any judgement. Instead she showed him nothing but compassion and concern.

"You didn't deserve this, James. Now let's get you out of here."

Quietly, James followed Elizabeth as she led him down toward the docks. He tried to make sense of what Elizabeth was doing in place like Tortuga. Even more, why she was here dressed like a man instead enjoying marital bliss with Turner?

_What has happened while I've been away?_ James wondered quietly to himself.

A mixture of anger and grief washed over James as he saw the ship he had chased for months, the ship that he was forced to watch evade his years of naval experience. How ironic was it that he was now a member of its crew.

_Not ironic…Humiliating would be the better word here, he thought._

Elizabeth caught up with Sparrow and Gibbs, calling for Sparrow and informing him that she was searching for Will. However, James hardly paid any attention as to why she was looking for Turner because the swaying of the dock was getting the best of him. The amount of alcohol he had consumed over the past several days intermingled with the horrid odor of his mud coated uniform, and caused his stomach to churn violently. The world felt as though it were spinning, even though he was not physically moving. His stomach gave a violent lurch, and James rushed to the edge of the dock as he emptied what little he had in his stomach into the water.

James recovered from his nauseous spell just in time to turn around and hear Sparrow explain to Elizabeth the fate of William Turner, a fate James couldn't expect to be worse than his own.

"Darling, I'm truly unhappy to have to tell you this but," Sparrow hesitated for a second, moving slightly closer to Elizabeth than James liked before he continued, "through an unfortunate and entirely unforeseeable series of circumstances that had nothing whatsoever having to do with me, poor Will has been press-ganged into Davy Jones's crew."

"Davy Jones?" Elizabeth asked, befuddled.

James had heard enough of Jack Sparrow's lies, and the fact that he was trying to make anyone believe Jones was real was the final straw. "Oh, please, the captain of the _Flying Dutchman_?" he exclaimed incrduously.

"You look bloody awful," Jack needlessly pointed out after taking two surprised glances before he realized it was Norrington standing in front of him. "And what are you doing here?"

"You hired me." James rolled his eyes; clearly Sparrow was dafter than James thought if the man couldn't even remember hiring him just moments ago. "I can't help it if your standards are lax."

"You smell funny."

"Jack," Elizabeth interrupted. "All I want it so find Will."

Sparrow grimaced at Elizabeth's desires. "Are you certain?" he asked curiously. "Is that what you really want most?"

"Of course," she snapped, furious Jack would doubt her concern for Will.

"Because I would think you'd want to find a way to save Will most."

"And you have a way of doing that?" Elizabeth asked inquisitively.

"Well," Sparrow began, toying with the ends of his beard, "There is a chest-"

"Oh, dear," James groaned in disbelief, not really caring if anyone heard him or not.

The next few minutes of Elizabeth and Jack's conversation were a complete loss for James; he had become more focused on two of Sparrow's crew members carrying a crate of rum by him. The tall, lanky man made some kind of pumping sound and matching action with his hand but James didn't really understand what he meant by it.

"…and whoever possesses that chest possesses the leverage to command Jones to do whatever he or she wants, including saving brave William from his grim fate," Sparrow finished with a drunken bow and wave of his arms.

James inserted himself between Elizabeth and Jack. "You don't actually believe him do you?" he questioned Elizabeth.

Ignoring James's protest for now, Elizabeth said, "How do we find it?"

"With this." Jack pulled out his compass, which James remembered seeing the on the day he had first arrested Sparrow. James kept a close eye on Sparrow as he flipped open the compass and then slammed the lid on it quickly, allowing for barely a glance. "My compass is unique."

"Unique here having the meaning of 'broken'" James remembered that the compass didn't point North.

"True enough, this compass doesn't point north."

Struggling with the idea to pull a sword on Sparrow, James walked back toward the cargo that was waiting to be loaded aboard the Pearl, the idea of having to take orders from a pirate made James's already unsettled stomach turn even more.

_Why couldn't I have been claimed by the sea with my crew_? James asked himself as he fell ill once again. _Why is fate torturing me in such a way?_

Wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his uniform, what was more filth anyway, James turned back toward the _Black Pearl_ as soon as he heard shouting orders to the crew on deck. The shouting made James groan in displeasure since his head felt as if any moment it would split in two.

At first James felt he would be able to walk right up the gangplank with Elizabeth but the short, balding man who had just passed by with the crate of rum, whom James also recognized from when the _Black Pearl_ was under Barbossa's control, shoved a goat into James's arms. With a menacing laugh he welcomed James to the crew and went back to his work. Dejectedly, James shook his head and headed up the gangplank, but instead of following Elizabeth he fell in line with the rest of the crew that was loading supplies.

Allowing a quick glance around at how low he had sunk since he was now a member of Jack Sparrow's crew, his eyes connected with a woman who possessed the darkest eyes he had ever seen. As soon as she noticed him looking up at her, James noticed her frown deepen and shook her head at him.

* * *

Considering that most of the men in Tortuga did not act as respectable gentlemen when met by a young woman, especially a woman traveling alone, Alex kept a safe distance away from the _Black Pearl_ as crew members slowly made their way down the docks.

Hidden out of view behind a large stack of wooden crates, she waited until she was sure either her brother or his first mate were at the _Pearl_, not long after taking refuge behind the crates she heard a familiar voice carry to her hiding place.

Sure enough there was Joshamee Gibbs, Jack's first mate, calling out orders on the dock. It had been a while since she'd seen Gibbs but he hadn't changed to her. To Alex, Gibbs was the father figure she had always wanted, compared to her actual father who was always off pirating when she was growing up.

"Orders, Mister Gibbs?" she yelled, causing the older man to whip around to see her leaning up against several crates of supplies, her hands resting casually on her hips.

"Alexandra?" Gibbs said, rubbing his eyes to make sure he wasn't seeing things. "Is that really you?"

With a smile on her face she embraced a man that she had always considered to be an extension of the family. "It's good to see you too, Mr. Gibbs." Alex's eyes scanned the dock. "Where is he, Gibbs?"

"On deck, Miss Sparrow." Gibbs jabbed his finger over his shoulder as he continued to ensure everything that needed to make it aboard actually did.

The sound of her high leather boots hitting the deck of the Pearl brought back memories of the last time she had been aboard this ship, not long before Barbossa's mutiny on her brother.

"Well, if it isn't the _other _Captain Sparrow?" she said casually as she caught sight of Jack up by the helm, his back towards her.

"No…" Jack moaned, his shoulders slumping. "Mister Gibbs!"

Joshamee Gibbs came running up the gangplank and rushed to Jack's side, Jack had yet to turn around and look at Alex. "Yes, Cap'n?"

Jack quickly glanced over his shoulder before answering Gibbs. "Please tell me that is not my sister, Mister Gibbs."

Alex made her way up the stairs and took her place in between Gibbs and her brother. "What?" Alex asked, eyeing her brother curiously. "Not happy to see me? Anyway, I was hoping to join your crew-"

"Don't you have your own crew?" Jack interrupted, finally looking his sister in the eyes. "Where is your faithful crew and what's his name? That first mate of-"

"Not important, Jack." Not wanting to admit her failure to her brother just yet, Alex quickly got back to the matter at hand, "You can never have too many crew members, can you, Captain Sparrow?"

"Cap'n," Gibbs began nervously looking between Alex and his captain, "I know Alex is your sister but it's still a bad idea to have her on board right now-"

"For God's sake!" Alex yelled, interrupting Gibbs. "You're still not going on about it being bad luck to have a woman aboard, are ye, Mister Gibbs?"

Gibbs and Jack exchanged a curious glance before Jack answered, "Of course he is, Alex, but don't worry; you are more than welcome aboard my vessel. Mister Gibbs!" Jack yelled, causing everyone on board to jump slightly. "Please show my dear sister to her accommodations."

"But Cap'n, you can't possibly-"

"Mister Gibbs, a word if you please," Jack began, leading Gibbs away so Alex couldn't hear any more of their conversation, leaving her alone at the helm.

For several minutes Alex stood alone, her fingers gently running against the weathered wood of the wheel, the feel of the helm at her hands made her remember the long hot days on the open sea aboard her own ship. A single tear ran down her face at the thought, causing her to look around quickly to make sure none of her brother's crew saw her emotions before wiping the tear away with the back of her hand.

"Mister Gibbs!" Alex heard Jack yell from the docks, walking over to the railing to see Gibbs faithfully answer her brother's call. "We have our heading," Jack added, his attention locked on Elizabeth, who was strangely holding Jack's compass.

Alex knew all about her brother's _unique_ compass and how it would point an individual in the direction of whatever they wanted most, a thing Alex never dared wanted to learn, especially if Jack was around. But it had her perplexed. Why was Jack using Elizabeth Swann for when he easily could have used the compass himself? After all Elizabeth was concerned about finding her fiancé, not anything Jack could ever want.

She also knew that her brother rarely ever let anyone else touch his compass, and something clearly had Jack troubled. Alex recalled how Jack did not want her to be here until she mentioned having another hand on deck.

"Cast off those lines!" Gibbs yelled, shaking Alex from her thoughts. "Weigh anchor and crowd that canvas."

Looking down, Alex saw Jack usher Elizabeth towards the gangplank with the compass still secured in her hands. But this no longer troubled Alex as much as she saw the naval officer, with a goat in his arms, coming aboard the _Pearl_.

Alex pressed her lips together and shook her head in disapproval, whatever trouble Jack was having was causing her brother to throw all caution to the wind.

**AN: Now that I'm on summer vacation the updates will be coming more regularly, I apologize to everyone for my vanishing act. Don't worry, I WILL NOT abandon this story. **

**Also since I've been using so many actual lines from the movies I have to say again that I am in no way, shape, or form associated with these films or Disney (or the actors). I am using the stories, characters, and plots for pure entertainment purposes and am not making anything from my story.**


	5. Chapter 5: Simply Surviving

Chapter 5: Simply Surviving

Finally far enough away from the island of Tortuga, where the haze from the town seemed to cover the sky, Alex looked up to endless black sky and the millions of stars that seemed like precious stones hanging up in the sky.

Being aboard the _Black Pearl_ again after so many years felt like she was at home, and might even go as far to admit she felt slightly at peace. Seeing the famous black sails of the _Pearl_ brought back many memories of her youth, and all times she spent with her brother aboard this ship, even before it was the infamous _Black Pearl._

The memory of the first time Alex sailed with her brother aboard the _Black Pearl _came to mind as the sails seemed to blend in perfectly against the night sky, similar to the night thirteen years ago when she first realized how special this ship was to her brother.

"_Jackie, why are the sails black?" A thirteen year old Alexandra asked her older brother, staring up at the sails swelling with the strong Caribbean winds. "I've never seen a ship with black sails before."_

_Turning to look up at her brother with amazement at the ship, Jack just looked down at her and smiled. "Are you sure you don't know this ship?" Jack asked, looking very much the same as would thirteen years later. "I had to make a special deal to get this ship."_

"_Jack," she laughed wildly, her brown eyes lightening with her laughter. "I'd remember if I'd been on a ship with black sails before."_

"_Are you sure?" Jack raised an eyebrow at Alex almost daring her to question herself._

Catching Alex off guard, something collided with Alex from behind sending her stumbling forward, bringing her back from her memories of her childhood aboard the _Pearl, _she had almost forgotten that much of the crew was still busying themselves about the main deck securing the rigging or making sure all the cargo was secured below.

Throwing her hands out, Alex reached for the mast so she wouldn't fall into it or trip and land face first on the deck. "What the bloody hell…" she hissed under her breath as she regained her balance, whipping her hands on her black breeches.

"'Ello puppet," a short, stout pirate said with a wicked grin so as Alex turned around to face him she instinctively reached for the cutlass hanging at her waist. His companion, who was a direct opposite of the first man being far taller and skinnier, mirrored the greeting.

Alex nearly had her sword unsheathed when a familiar voice yelled behind her.

"Oi, what are you two useless miscreants doin'?" Jack asked, Alex whipped her head around to see Jack coming down from the quarterdeck, noticing a older man with a brightly colored parrot perched on his shoulder alone at helm. "Get back to work," Jack ordered the two men who had called Alex 'puppet'.

Jack didn't even say a word to his sister, but instead gave a shrill whistle and nodded back into his quarters. Not even needing to ask Alex just shrugged her shoulders and followed Jack into his cabin, which was nearly just how it had been years ago. Jack must have made sure anything left of Barbossa's was disposed of.

The interior was dimly lit by candles scattered around the room and a single oil lantern which hung over a large, round wooden table which had several rolls of parchment spread over the surface, no doubt many of them were different navigational charts that Jack had been looking over recently. Empty rum bottles were scattered on the floor.

Jack took a seat at the round table, propping his feet up causing several chunks of sand to fall of his boots and landed on one of his maps as he poured a goblet of rum Jack motioned for Alex to take the empty across the table from where he sat.

"So," Jack began, pushing the goblet across the table towards his sister before taking a long drink straight from the bottle, "To what great honor do I owe this visit?"

Alex took her seat but didn't touch the goblet, instead kept her eyes fixed on her brother's movements. "Is it hard to believe that I would just want to see my older brother?" she asked innocently, trying to judge if Jack had heard anything about her loss.

"Aye, I'd believe it if you didn't have your own ship and crew. Which makes me wonder, where is your ship?"

Running a hand through her long hair, her fingers twisting the knots caused by the salty sea air, Alex just smiled at Jack until something strange caught her attention. "What is that?" Alex asked, looking at what appeared to be just a jar of dirt skeptically as it sat on the middle of her brother's desk. "Dare I ask why you have a jar of-"

"It's absolutely nothing," Jack said quickly. "Nothing at all, nothing what so ever."

Slowly nodding her head, Alex leaned over to the side of her chair, trying to steal a glance at the jar. "Alright…" she said slowly, drawing out every sound. "Then why are you hiding nothing from me?"

"I'm hiding absolutely nothing from you."

"Fine, Jack." Alex slowly rose from her seat, leaving her glass of rum untouched; surely Jack would see that it was taken care of later. "I don't know why I even bothered."

Alex was able to cross the cabin in a few quick strides but what Jack did next caused his sister to stop dead in her tracks.

"It was a noble thing he did for you." Jack's words caused Alex to pull her hand off the handle of the door as if it had just burned her. "Your firs' mate I mean."

_He knows what happened,_ Alex's whole body went numb at the realization that Jack just wanted to get her to admit what had happened in Port Royal.

"I know who you mean," Alex began, her voice dry and controlled, "And he was noble while I was nothing but a coward."

"No." Jack's footsteps stopped just behind her, Jack considered reaching out to place a hand on his sister's shoulder but quickly reconsidered. "No Alex, you survived. He saved ye and I'll forever be grateful, but what was ye doin' in Port Royal?"

Wrenching open the door, Alex looked over her shoulder and simply said, "I think it's fairly simple to figure out." Without another word she left her brother's cabin, noting much of the crew had left the deck and had probably turned in for the night, only a handful were awake to man the ship.

Her mind was still whirling now that she knew Jack was aware of what had happened, she was also furious that he would mention Aaron to her. Jack was well aware of his sister's relationship with her first mate, a relationship that he always poked fun at. Either way, no matter how well Jack meant it sent a knife in her heart.

And now what was this strange obsession that Jack had with a jar of dirt? Alex couldn't wrap her head around her brother's strange behavior, but then again, when was anyone ever able to understand what her brother had going on?

Below decks Alex made her way to the small cabin that Jack had Gibbs set up for her, simply wanting to be left alone and not have anyone see her in this state of mind. Her emotions had been closed off to the world for too long and the conversation she had with Jack had all but shattered her composure.

In her rush to get away from everyone, Alex ran into a member of the crew, her shoulder slamming hard into the rock solid body, but instead of looking back to offer any kind of acknowledgement, she continued forward as the tears in her eyes began blurring her vision.

Alex felt as though the vastness of the ocean was crashing down upon her and if she didn't start clawing back to surface she would surely drown, and by doing so she wouldn't just let herself down but she would be letting down Aaron.

She was tired of just merely surviving.

* * *

_Finally, some fresh air,_ James thought to himself as he inhaled the fresh, salty air deep into his lungs. Down below decks, the air hung thick with the stench of sweat and rum.

In the brief moments that he had topside, James felt almost back at home at sea, even if the ship he had to board was less than ideal. The way the sea and the sky seamlessly melded into each other washed a wave of calm over the former commodore, even if that moment of calm had been broken just as quickly as it had started when he was forced back to work.

It took the crew only a couple of hours to ensure that all the cargo had been properly stored and the island of Tortuga was left in the _Black Pearl's_ wake, the job would have been done sooner had several crew members not been content in watching James do much of the work, even with his naval uniform tattered and stained, it still left James the center of ridicule.

With his body sore and his head throbbing, he followed many of the crew members up from the hold to the berth deck, where all the crews' hammocks were hung, unless they were important enough to have a separate cabin. Being at the end of the rush for a place to sleep, James reluctantly had to pace up and down the deck to see if any spots were left.

James felt his mouth go dry as he watched the bottle of rum begin to be passed among the hammocks. However, the memory of being violently sick on the docks was still fresh in his mind, as well as the stale taste that still lingered heavily on his tongue.

Just as he realized there was not a place for him to rest his aching limbs, a sailor James recognized as one of the men that had joined Sparrow's crew in Tortuga pointed the same thing out to James.

"These all be full," the man said, turning and spitting just to the left of James. "Looks like ye have to find somewhere else t'sleep."

Looking around James realized that he was actually telling the truth, there were no more hammocks available to sleep in. "And where exactly might that be?" James asked, annoyed and his voice heavy from exhaustion.

"Not ma problem."

"Are there any extra hammocks?"

"Nope."

"Do you plan on being helpful?"

"Nope."

Standing there for a moment, not daring to say a word, James balled his hands into tight fists at his side. His nails digging into the dirty palms of his hands, the pain serving as a reminder to keep his mouth shut or he would end up in yet another fight. And with this being Sparrow's ship, he figured he'd end up in a long boat being forced to watch the _Black Pearl _sail away the moment James got into a scrap.

"Anythin' you be sayin', _Commodore_?" James heard the man that had shoved the goat in his arms yell out of the darkness.

Biting back any retort against the man's blatant disrespect, James turned on his heels and wandered down one of the corridors, hoping to find anywhere quiet he could lie down. Or at least somewhere no one would be able to find him until morning.

Not really sure of where he was going, James found himself back down near the cargo hold, lost in thought, not really paying attention to his surroundings. Most of the ship had fallen silent except for the creaking of the ship as it swayed on the ocean, though the silence was broken when the sound of footsteps hurried down the corridor followed by a pain that shot down James' arm, nearly knocking him off balance

Throwing his other arm out, James was able to catch himself against the wall before glancing over his shoulder to watch as a woman continued running down the corridor, never once looking back at him.

As she hurried down the corridor he watched the mass of long brown curls sway with every step, what little light shinning off the silver brocade on her waist coat. Though as soon as James blinked she was gone, the only proof she existed was the soreness James felt in his shoulder.

Not bothering to go after her, he dismissed her problems as no importance to him and slipped into the cargo hold, deciding this was possibly the best he would be able to find at this point. The only other living soul in the hold was the goat that James had brought on board, which was conveniently busying itself with a pile of feed that was left in the corner of the room.

James removed his filthy overcoat and tossed it aside as he worked on stacking several sacks of grain on the floor in attempt to make himself a crude bed on which to spend the night. His muscles were sore and achy from the scuffle at the Faithful Bride were finally starting to affect him, just as all the alcohol in his body started to loosen his grip on his mind.

Lying down on the sacks of grain, James closed his eyes and with the gentle rocking of the ship it wasn't long before he gave into his exhaustion and fell into a deep, but restless sleep.

**A/N: Thanks to all the wonderful reviews and messages I've been getting for this story, you have no idea how meaningful they are. A lot of credit goes to my beta Amani Ishikawa, who gave me a lot to think about lately and really helped inspire this chapter. I am looking forward to hearing what you guys thought about this one.**


	6. Chapter 6: Suspicions Grow

Chapter 6: Suspicions Grow

"Miss Alexandra."

A small smile crept across Alex's face as she glanced back at Joshamee Gibbs. Jack's faithful first mate was the only person she allowed to call her by her given name, something she never allowed her own brother to do.

She knew that Gibbs had been standing there for some time, not saying much but instead just watching and probably nervously hoping she wouldn't jump overboard. Alex had already been sitting on the railing with her feet propped up on one of the guns allowing the gentle rocking of the ship clear her mind as the sun started to peek over the horizon when she heard his footsteps stop just behind her.

Had it been Jack, he would have opened his mouth and said something that would have made Alex to lose what little patience she had for him. The other crew members simply ignored their captain's mysterious sister, but not Gibbs; he often admitted that she was like the daughter he never had as well as the reason he would never want a daughter.

"You seem lost in thought, lass."

"You've known me for far too long, Mister Gibbs."

"Aye, that be true," he admitted. "Now what's troubling you?"

Letting her feet slip off the gun she slowly swung around so that she was facing Gibbs, her dark eyes cold and distant, despite the look of contentment she strained to keep on her face. "You have to ask?" she forced a small laugh.

"I take it you've heard about Port Royal-"

"Who hasn't?" Alex turned her attention back to the ocean, the sunlight shimmering over the water giving it the illusion of glass. "It's bad enough I had to hear about it in Tortuga and now what do I have to show for caring?"

"Well, I'm bettin' whatever it is that would have you comin' here can't be worse than I be imagin'."

"I lost it all…" Her voice faded, taking a deep breath before continuing. "My crew, my ship, my heart…everything!" Alex gazed at Gibbs with sorrow in her eyes. Her face flushed as she finally felt the wall she had built up began to crumble away. "I lost it all because I was worried about Jack. Because of my loyalty to my brother, I threw all of it away. I'm actually surprised Jack didn't share it with you."

All the grief and pity Alex had felt for herself was running through her body like poison. She knew it wasn't fair to be dumping all of this on Gibbs, but he didn't say anything. Instead, the older man just listened. He was acting as the one thing she needed, a shoulder to lean on.

Over Gibbs' shoulder Alex saw her brother come out of his quarters, Jack made his way up toward the helm, clutching the same jar of dirt she'd asked about last night, which he was protectively keeping out of sight from any crew member.

"And now what is that all about?" she snapped, gesturing toward her brother, not even wanting to ask about his unusual behavior at the moment. "I'm at the mercy of Jack and I bloody well know he's in trouble…"

Standing up for his captain, Gibbs just shrugged and explained that her brother was just dealing with some issues at the moment, earning a small laugh from Alex.

"When isn't he dealing with issues, Mister Gibbs?" she asked.

Gibbs took tentative steps toward Alex. He gently rested a hand on her shoulder and reminded her, "As much grief as he may cause ye, he's still ye family, Alex."

Knowing that she had recently been blaming Jack for her misfortune, she knew Gibbs was right. Jack had been the only one there for her while she was growing up. But her grief for her crew, especially Aaron, still consumed her. All that Aaron had given her over the years was lost because of her loyalty to Jack.

"I know," she admitted, her voice suddenly flat and devoid of feeling.

Alex allowed her eyes to roam around the deck, ignoring Gibbs as he reminded her all that she and Jack had been through together when she saw him. Blinking back her tears, Alex noticed the former naval officer that had joined her brother's crew the night before in Tortuga. She barely recognized him now that he had removed his dingy, white wig, revealing a mass of long brown hair which was loosely tied back at the nape of his neck.

"Gibbs," she interrupted, her eyes carefully watching the man's movements across the deck, even more so as he headed in their direction carrying a bucket of water. "Who is that man, the one in the Naval uniform?"

Without needing to look over his shoulder to see who Alex was referring to. "That be Commodore James Norrington. Well…former Commodore-"

"Commodore Norrington?" Alex asked, her eyes wide with surprise. Something in her mind recalled where she had heard his name mentioned. "You mean the one that nearly had Jack-"

"Aye." Gibbs shook his head in agreement. "The very same one. Actually I served with him when I was a warrant officer. O' course he wasn' a Commodore then. Prided himself in givin' all pirates a 'short drop and sudden stop.'"

"What?"

"His words, not mine," Gibbs took out his flask, and downed a quick mouthful of rum.

Alex's mouth hung open in disbelief. How could her brother possibly allow a man that had tried to kill him on several occasions aboard his ship? She'd never allow the former Commodore aboard her vessel if he'd had her sentenced to the gallows.

_But this isn't your ship_, she was forced to remind herself. _Anyway, what does it matter, I never had the reputation Jack has, nor did I ever want it. _

"What has he gotten himself mixed into, Mister Gibbs?" Alex asked, her eyes following Norrington's every move, not realizing that he was now walking over to speak with Jack and Elizabeth on the other side of the ship.

As Alex headed over to join her brother, she glanced back at Norrington, afraid to turn her back on him.

When Alex joined her brother, Gibbs, and Elizabeth, Alex noticed Jack was holding several sheets of parchment that were bound in a worn leather case. She didn't need to look a second time at the seal that had been pressed into the parchment to know they were Letters of Marque.

"Beckett?" Gibbs asked, his eyes fixed on the name on the papers.

"Yes, they're signed," Elizabeth assured them. "Lord Cutler Beckett of the East India Trading Company."

Jack could only groan at the sound of the name while Alex had only one thing to say about Beckett. "Git," she growled.

No one noticed Alex had joined them because only Jack had bothered to lift his head and notice his sister had said anything.

"Will was working for Beckett and never said a word." Gibbs's words only made Jack groan again, and Alex was not having a very good feeling about Elizabeth's fiancé. "Beckett wants the compass, only one reason for that."

"Of course," Jack muttered, his eyes shifting over toward Gibbs, Elizabeth, and his sister. "He wants the chest."

"Yes, he did say something about a chest," Elizabeth added, earning several curious looks from Jack and Gibbs. Clearly, they took Elizabeth's statement a little differently than she had intended it to be taken.

"If the company controls the chest they control the sea," Gibbs added.

There was only one chest Alex knew of that would give someone like Cutler Beckett complete control of the seas, but it was only a legend. There was no way the chest of Davy Jones could possibly exist, let alone be anywhere Beckett could find it

"A truly discomforting notion, luv," Jack's voice was somber.

"And bad," Gibbs began, stating the obvious, "Bad for every mother's son what calls himself pirate." Looking around nervously and added, "I think there's a little more speed to be coaxed from these sails, brace the foreyard!"

So that was it, Alex realized as Gibbs ran off to oversee the crew's work and Jack and Elizabeth engaged in a discussion of how she had come about obtaining the Letters of Marque. This whole voyage was to ensure the Chest of Davy Jones didn't fall into Cutler Beckett's hands.

She didn't want to hear any more about Beckett, she had enough experience with the head of the East India Trading Company to know the seas would become more dangerous for every pirate if he was in control. So Alex left her brother and Elizabeth in search for a quiet place to be alone with her thoughts.

* * *

_It had to have been a horrible nightmare_, James thought drifting between sleep and wakefulness. _I couldn't possibly have fallen that hard._

"Norrington!" someone yelled from above, sending pain ripping through James' skull and bringing him fully back to consciousness. "Wake up ye lazy sod."

Reluctantly James opened his eyes and screwed them shut again as he was forced to realize that the events of last night were not just a figment of his imagination, making the aching head more unbearable but pure reality. At that moment James almost wished he had woken up in a pig sty rather than aboard Sparrow's ship.

Slowly James attempted to open his eyes again, noting the stacks of crates that were piled around him and also the goat curled up several feet away; it was all real.

Finding Sparrow in Tortuga, Elizabeth Swann pulling him from the muck, those dark eyes staring at him in disgust - all of it had happened. James was sure there was more to it but most of last night was still hazy to the former Commodore, he couldn't even explain the soreness he was experiencing in his shoulder.

"Norrington!" they shouted again. Thankfully James realized that it wasn't Sparrow yelling down below for him.

Noting he must have passed out in the cargo hold, James got up and instantly felt off balance, much like he had felt every morning he had spent in Tortuga. At this point he would have wandered the streets of Tortuga looking for his first drink, but he was no longer in Tortuga and trapped in his own personal hell.

To ease his punishment, James looked in several of the crates and realized that there was no rum kept down here. He surmised that Sparrow must have kept it locked up in another area of the ship, and the realization of this caused Norrington to groan in frustration.

Ever since the first ship he worked on following the accident, alcohol was always available to James and now that he couldn't find any, he was afraid the jagged edges around his heart would only become more painful.

Knowing he wouldn't be able to hide forever, James finally admitted defeat and made his way topside passing where many of the other crew members had slept last night. Once on the main deck, James needed to shade his eyes from the morning light, something he hadn't experienced in quite a while because of the smoky haze that constantly covered Tortuga.

"Scrub the deck, Norrington," the sailor that had been calling for him shoved a bucket into James' arms, water splashing on James' stained overcoat. "Ye can use tha' wig a yers."

Several crew members that had been looking on erupted into a fit of laughter at James. He snarled as he fought the urge to reach for his sword. Also realizing that he was grossly outnumbered if he did decide to start a fight on deck, James quietly made his way toward a group of men that were already scrubbing the deck.

It was on his way towards the stern when James saw her, those dark eyes that had stared down at him. He then noticed a silver sparrow hanging gracefully from her neck, similar to the bird that he had seen tattooed to Sparrow's arm the first time he had captured the pirate in Port Royal.

"Commodore Norrington?" He heard her ask. "You mean the one that nearly had Jack-"

He didn't need to hear Gibbs' reply; she knew who he was and the reputation that now followed him. James was sure that even this strange woman knew of him as a failed Commodore.

James noticed she was trying to discreetly watch his every move with caution, yet he couldn't help but admit to himself that she was beautiful, though not in the same way as Elizabeth Swann, but in her own right with her dark brown curls falling neatly down her back…

Noticing Elizabeth speaking with Sparrow out of the corner of his eye, James felt a wave of guilt wash over him for admiring the strange woman. Even though she was no longer his fiancée James still felt connected with her.

_But she desired another,_ he reminded himself. _She didn't want you and embarrassed you in front of your own men._

Getting on with his work, James kept his attention fixed to the conversation Jack and Elizabeth had begun about letter's she had received from Lord Cutler Beckett of the East India Trading Company, which had Gibbs and the mysterious woman join in. One part of the conversation quickly caused James to drop his wig in a wet heap and listen intently to what Sparrow was saying.

"Full pardon," Sparrow read from the papers. "Commission as a privateer on behalf of England and the East India Trading Company."

_That's it,_ Norrington thought hopefully, not realizing that Gibbs and the dark haired woman had gone left the conversation. _My chance at redemption._

He carefully watched Elizabeth and Jack, noting that Sparrow had tucked the Letters of Marque inside his overcoat before they went their separate ways. He watched as Elizabeth stormed off to where the mysterious woman had been while Sparrow headed toward the helm.

As James approached Elizabeth, he noticed how brightly she was smiling as she looked out over the water, and a twinge of jealousy stirred within him. He stood and went over to her and leaned casually against the railing. "It's a curious thing," James began airily. "There was a time when I would have given anything for you to look like that when thinking about me."

"I don't know you what mean." Elizabeth matched his stance.

"Oh, I think you do." James had never in his life spoken to a woman in such a rude manner. His parents, rest their souls, had raised him better. However, they would have never imagined their son would end up a pirate either.

After all it had been James' father, the Admiral Lawrence Norrington, who had been humiliated when at five years of age James had fallen overboard and was rescued by a pirate. The Admiral even though he was grateful his son was alive had gone on years later to admit that he rather his son have drowned that be indebted to a pirate such as Captain Teague.

"Don't be absurd, I trust him, that's all."

_Trust - _a word that James would have never paired with the likes of Jack Sparrow, or any pirate for that matter. Even to this day he still wouldn't trust his life to a pirate, especially now considering where his life was trapped. However, the thought of anyone trusting Sparrow made Norrington laugh; he couldn't remember the last time he had done that.

As he turned to leave Elizabeth alone, James couldn't help but ask his former fiancé one last question: "So you've never wondered how your latest fiancé ended up on the _Flying Dutchman_ in the first place?" he asked over his shoulder, testing how far Elizabeth's trust in Sparrow really ran.

Elizabeth offered no response, he had his answer. Without another word, James decided that he had enough and made his way below decks and back to the cargo hold where he had found himself this morning

**A/N: Okay, I'll admit it! I hated this whole scene in Dead Man's Chest...HATED IT! *glances around* Well, now that I have gotten that off me chest let's get down to the important part which involves something I know many of you have been waiting for. I have several surprises for all of you and I don't think anyone is going to see this coming ;)**


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